


Forgiveness For The First

by Anonymous



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Anxiety, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Blood and Violence, F/M, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Medicinal Drug Use, Nightmares, Post-Season/Series 01, Redemption, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Sibling Bonding, Social Anxiety, Touch-Starved, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-16 15:20:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18524206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: In the aftermath of the apocalypse, Luther avoids any physical contact. Especially from Vanya.





	Forgiveness For The First

**Author's Note:**

> I really thought that Luther could've been a great brother if he was given the chance, and I don't believe for a second that he was the only one not effected by Reginald.
> 
> Some things to note before you read:
> 
> —Vanya didn't kill Pogo, he died with Grace when the house was destroyed.  
> —Luther takes anxiety medication in doubles because of his body, I.e. the misuse of drugs.  
> —Luther and Vanya may be ooc, I presumed they would act differently post-season 1

Luther can't remember the last time he's touched someone since the concert.

 

But he does remember when Allison fired the fateful gunshot– as Vanya's powers dissipated all at once– and she collapsed into a heap on the stage floor. He remembers Allison having to reluctantly hand Vanya over to him so he could carry her. He remembers feeling too tense as he tried his hardest not to injure his unconscious sister.

 

It's been a month since then. Luther used up most of his inheritance from father to rebuild the house. They tried to convince him otherwise, arguing that everything that happened in that place should've been buried– like Dad– but Luther would never be convinced. Although he did like the idea of moving somewhere and buying a nice apartment, he quickly tried to erase it from his mind. Buying an apartment meant neighbors. Which meant lots of questions; lots of stares. Luther decided he prefers to live in a house big enough to fit him.

 

It doesn't take long to complete, especially when you have money to give, and he settles in quickly. Luther thinks he'll be used to the silence. He's wrong.

 

He wonders if this is what Vanya felt, when she was secluded, as a child and an adult. It makes him wonder: was anyone ever there for Vanya? He knows why he wasn't. Because he was Number One, and she was Number Seven. On a number line they're the farthest apart.

 

Luther thinks of these things when he eats eggs alone in the kitchen. Sometimes he'll wake up seeing Grace and Pogo waiting for him there, but then he'll rub the exhaustion from his eyes and they'll be gone. He misses them more than he can fathom: he misses Grace's perfectly cooked meals versus his burnt eggs in the morning. He misses Pogo's kind smile whenever he would wake up for missions.

 

But he doesn't cry. Because he's Number One. That's what father told him, when he was a child. He remembers it so vividly to this day: he was five, maybe six, and he would cry whenever he felt like it.

 

He didn't get to play outside. Number Four got special training instead of him. He doesn't want to share with Number Two. His father finally had enough.

 

“Number One,” he would say, in his commanding tone, “You are not a child, you are the leader, so act like it.”

 

Luther recalls the lectures and the sometimes-punishments. Luther would usually be obedient, but that day, he screamed in red-faced anger. He remembers the first and final slap his father gave him, straight across the cheek. Number One was out of tears, but he still felt the urge to cry. He willed himself not to.

 

Because back then, he was Number One. And the strongest number would not falter.

 

* * *

 

It's in the next couple of weeks when he gets the call. He's sitting in the living room, staring at the fireplace with no particular interest when he hears the ringing. Slowly, he glances across the room at the old landline rattling the table, staring at it for a few moments before finally getting up to answer it.

 

He brings it to his ear, and answers in a rough voice. “Hello?”

 

“Luther.”

 

He freezes, his whole body suddenly ice.

 

“Are you there?”

 

It takes him a minute to respond. “Hey Vanya.”

 

A beat of silence.

 

“How are you?” She asks, in a hushed but tender voice.

 

“I'm– good. Great.” he lies, having to pause to swallow his anxiety. “You?”

 

“I'm good as well.” She responds somewhat cheerfully, clearly not affected by the awkwardness of the phone call.

 

Before Luther can respond, or silence can fill between them, Vanya interjects.

 

“Hey, I was wondering if I could visit? Maybe bring whoever wants to tag along.”

 

Luther's heart feels like it could beat out of his chest. Seeing everyone so soon? He swallowed nervously. “Who… who would come?”

 

He hears rustling on the other side of the phone before his sister speaks. “Well, I'm not too sure about Klaus, but who is, really?” She laughs, “but I'm still connected with Five and Allison. Maybe Diego if he isn't busy.”

 

“You and Diego are…?” He asks, trailing off.

 

“We're getting there, I think,” she pauses, “he's forgiven me, so that's a start.”

 

 _Forgiveness_ , Luther thinks.

 

Can he have that? Can he be like Diego and Vanya?

 

He doesn't realize she's talking to him until she says, “You there?”

 

“Yeah, sorry. What did you say?”

 

“I said tomorrow, 6:30? If that isn't too early?”

 

 _Yes_. “No.” _I need more time_. “That's not too early.” _Don't come_. “I'll see you then?”

 

“Yes, great! See you.” _Click._

 

Luther doesn't try to move from his spot until the loud dial tone startles him. He hangs the phone up. He goes behind the bar and pours himself a drink. He's grown quite fond of whiskey.

 

* * *

 

 

The night following the call with his sister, Luther has a nightmare.

 

He's not a stranger to them, in fact his dreams and his nightmares are very similar. In his dreams, he visions Allison: kissing her, dancing with her, making love to her. In all of these scenarios he has a normal body. It's a pleasant sleep until he awakes, realizes _it was a dream_ , and he's back in his ape form.

 

In his nightmares, however, he has Vanya. He has him squeezing her until she passed out, locking her in the vault. Then, he has rare ones. The one's where it's him with the gun, but this time, he points it at the back of his sister's head and pulls the trigger. Blood pools around her body, seeping into the wood of her violin until it's nothing but red.

 

The one perk of being alone in the house is that no one is there to hear his screams.

 

* * *

 

Luther is standing right next to the front door at 6:15. He had a glass of whiskey and a Xanax to calm his nerves, but he can still feel the tremors in his body. He hasn't taken any anxiety medication before, but he doesn't think it's working. Luther figures it's because of his body, so he quickly runs to grab his bottle and swallows three more dry. When he takes the third pill, he hears the echo of the doorbell throughout the house.

 

It feels like it takes Luther an eternity to get to the door. He glances at the time. 6:24? Vanya's usually overly punctual. He grabs the handle of the door and opens it carefully.

 

He's met with Klaus, with a massive grin on his face, and a purple shawl wrapped around his neck. He has a flowy sundress on, matched with scruffy converse. Luther can't say anything before his brother laughs and pushes his way into the house.

 

“Luther! I love what you've done with the place!” He exclaims, twirling around in the front hall that looks very much the same.

 

Before the accident, Luther probably would've yelled at Klaus for being a nuisance. Now, his brother's loud and flamboyant presence is soothing to him. He smiles. “It's good to see you, Klaus,” he says, shutting the front door behind him.

 

“Of course! I bet you were simply dying without me, dear brother o’ mine,” he laughs, walking closer to Luther with open arms.

 

Luther visibly flinches, taking a step to the side, away from his brother. Klaus notices, (because of course he does), and he frowns. The moment of silence is quickly gone when Klaus’ face lights up with recognition. “You'll _have_ to give me a tour.”

 

Luther chuckles lightly. “You can look around yourself. Try not to break anything.”

 

Klaus jumps enthusiastically. “No promises, big guy,” he says, clumsily running up the staircase.

 

“Hey.”

 

Luther turns back towards his brother, whose standing high up the steps, face gentle.

 

“Ben says he'll join us when everyone else comes around.”

 

“Okay,” Luther answers, because he doesn't know what else to say.

 

“And he says thank you,” Klaus grins, “for rebuilding the house.”

 

And then his brother is climbing up the rest of the steps, gone and out of sight, and Luther clutches his chest.

 

His eyes are burning and itchy when the second bell rings. He takes a breath and opens the door in a rush of confidence.

 

It's both of his sister's. He notices Allison first: the faded scar across her neck covered by a black scarf. She's wearing a loose white blouse and a long fitted skirt and it makes Luther stare. Vanya's not far behind her, wearing a bright yellow sweater that he isn't used to seeing, and smiles softly at him from the entryway.

 

“Hi.” Luther says dumbly, his eyes flickering to the floor, stepping back to hold the door for them. “Come in.”

 

Allison nods, smiles, and takes Vanya's hand when they enter. The sound of the door clicking behind them is like a pen dropping. A pregnant pause from Vanya before she turns to gave her brother.

 

“Is the living room in the same place?”

 

“Yeah,” Luther nods, pausing. “But it's– it's different.”

 

Vanya laughs, “I would hope so.”

 

Luther watches as Vanya leads Allison to the left, watches them disappear from his sight. He took a deep breath and eventually followed then out. This would be hard, but at least his medication was finally kicking in.

 

* * *

 

 

It's not long before everyone is at the house. Luther watches as his family exchange hugs and laughter, Allison and Vanya signing to each other, surprised when they realize Klaus can understand them too. He explains that there was a mute man at Shau Valley, and Luther doesn't understand, so he just stays quiet. There's a moment where everyone finishes getting acquainted, and his siblings turn to him. Even through his pleasant relaxation of the pills, he still doesn't want them to touch him. He shies away as fast as possible, and his saving grace is the sudden blue light that appears when Five blinks in the middle of the living room.

 

“So you didn't move the living room after all,” announces his brother, deadpan, “That's more convenient.”

 

Klaus shouts “Hey Old Man!” at the same time Vanya exclaims “Five!” and rushes over to meet him. Five smiles a rare sincere smile that he only gives his sister, and greets her.

 

Luther's standing awkwardly next to Klaus slumped on the loveseat when Five turns to him.

 

“I do hope you stocked up on good coffee, Luther.”

 

He blinks at his brother, giving him a slow nod. “Uhm, I guess. I bought a Keurig.”

 

Five breathes a deep sigh, relieved. “Thank God,” he says, and blinks away.

 

It's silent for a few moments before Luther realizes. “I don't think he knows how to use it.”

 

A loud bout of laughter erupts from Klaus and Luther goes red, awkwardly making his way to the kitchen.

 

* * *

 

When he gets there, Five breaks his Keurig, and Luther is forced to pull out the old coffee machine. He tells his brother that it's okay, even though he doesn't apologize for it. Five grabs his bitter drink and blinks again, presumably the living room, and Luther sighs. While he's in the kitchen, he pulls out the toaster because he's got a craving for cinnamon-sugar toast. He's rather be away from his family right now anyway.

 

He leans against the kitchen counter. Hs usual stiff body is lax due to the drug, and Luther's brain feels less jumbled. He could probably talk to his siblings if he was normally like this.

 

But that's when the exhaustion kicks in.

 

Luther pulls out the Rye bread and places two slices in the toaster before pulling the lever down. He slumps back and his eyes threaten to close. When they do, Luther's startled by the noise the toaster makes, and he rubs his eyes. He pulls his toast out and butters it, before sprinkling it with cinnamon and sugar.

 

Luther bites into his snack. It tastes heavenly. He decides to put it on a plate and go back into the living room.

 

Klaus is still sprawled out on the couch, a cigarette hanging from his lips. Five's standing next to Allison and Vanya sitting at the bar, and Luther walks in, taking the spot next to Klaus. He thinks his family is staring at him while he nibbles on his toast, but the Xanax works it's magic and he doesn't feel his crushing anxiety.

 

He notices Klaus looking at his toast from the corner of his eye before his brother even says anything.

 

“Ooh, _very_ fancy!” Klaus giggles, “Wanna share, big guy?”

 

Luther doesn't know if Klaus is joking or not, but he grabs his second slice and rips it in two. He hands one half to his brother, whose eyes are wide.

 

“What?” Luther blinks, “you're not getting the whole slice, I'm hungry.”

 

Klaus bursts out laughing. He just sighs, wiping a pretend tear, and taking the cigarette from his mouth to chew on the toast. “You got more fun, Lu.”

 

Luther's heart clenches for two reasons: one, his brother called him a nickname he hasn't done since they were five, and two, he won't admit to Klaus that it's the pills and not actually him.

 

* * *

 

A couple of hours pass. Luther is pleasantly floating, watching Klaus, Allison, and Vanya try to beat each other at Britney Spears’ “Toxic” on Just Dance. Him and Five sit on the couch, Luther politely declining to play, and Five vehemently refusing. He's laughing when Klaus accidentally trips over himself, when Vanya tries to awkwardly follow her siblings. When the song ends, Luther doesn't even think Diego rang the doorbell, because suddenly his brother is standing by the entryway of the living room watching them. Or, more specifically, watching _him._  Luther's smile falls, his throat dry.

 

“D!” Klaus yells, running over to hug him, sweating and exhausted from the workout. Diego promptly pushes him away.

 

“Gross, Klaus, Jesus.”

 

Klaus stops with a pout, and he tugs on his brother's arm. “C'mon, you gotta help us butcher 'Rasputin’!”

 

Diego shakes his head. “I just came by to pick up some of my shit,” he answers, and focuses his hard gaze on Luther. “Where do you keep them again?”

 

Luther swallows heavily. “The uh– upstairs. In the attic.”

 

Diego barks out a forced laugh. “What, no basement?”

 

“Diego!” Vanya whisper-yells.

 

“No,” Luther says louder, “I didn't– it was removed.”

 

“Typical for you,” Diego spits, “to try and cover it up and ignore it.”

 

“I told you to be civil!” Vanya scolds, a frown on her face.

 

“Yeah, well.”

 

Luther wants to hide. He stands up abruptly from his seat. “There's another staircase to the attic by Klaus’ room,” he says quickly, “I'm tired so– so you can leave. If you want. Yeah.”

 

Luther ushers out of the room as fast as possible, and he can hear something like “coward” on the way out.

 

He climbs the steps and most falls, rushing into his bedroom and closing the door. Luther tries to get comfortable in his bed, but he can't even _fit_ , so he gives up and lays downo onthe floor.

 

And he falls asleep that way: tired and alone.

 

* * *

 

Luther has a different kind of nightmare that night.

 

It’s amazing how surreal it feels to him: choking Vanya until her face is red and there's tears down her cheeks– only for a brief moment– until she dies. Once she's gone it shifts into another scenario: pleading for him to stop, when he can't. Switches again: her eyes glowing white, edging him on, forcing him to put all of his strength into squeezing her throat.

 

When he screams himself awake, he expects to be alone. But he's not, because Allison is there in the doorway with the most pained look on her face. Luther can physically feel the stab of guilt in his heart.

 

His sister carefully makes her way into his room, extending a hand to him to help him up from the floor. He takes it, and Allison leads him to his bed, and sits down gently. She pulls out a notepad and and pen, clicks it, and scribbles.

 

_NIGHTMARE?_

 

Luther nods, eyes cast down on his gloved hands like they’re the most interesting thing in the world.

 

Allison flips the page and writes again. _EVERYONE IS WORRIED ABOUT YOU,_ andadds, _VANYA TOO._

 

“I'm fine,” Luther lies, and his sister gives him an unconvinced stare.

 

_IS THIS ABOUT HER?_

 

He doesn't say anything until Allison flips back to the page that says “NIGHTMARE?”

 

“Yeah, fine,” he admits, clutching his hands together in a vice, “The nightmares– they're that night.”

 

 _I CAN'T GIVE GOOD ADVICE LIKE THIS_ , it reads, _BUT TALK TO HER, PLEASE._

 

When Luther shakes his head Allison underlines the sentence three times. She stares at Luther with conviction, and he realizes that she won't give up until he says yes. He sighs.

 

“Okay.”

 

* * *

 

Turns out, Luther doesn't get to talk with Vanya because she finds him first.

 

After his talk with Allison, he followed her back downstairs, where he opened the door for her, and said their goodbyes. Shutting the door and leaning on it for a moment, he heard a cough from behind him.

 

“Sorry about Diego,” Vanya whispers, her voice soft.

 

“It's fine,” Luther responds, “I didn't expect everything to go perfectly.”

 

His sister nods in agreement, pursing her lips. She glances down at the floor and then back up to his face.

 

“Are you afraid of me?”

 

Luther's eyes widen in alarm. “What?”

 

Vanya rubs her forearm with her hand nervously. “Ever since… then, you've been distant. I just thought-”

 

“I'm not scared of you, Vanya,” he says, his voice hard and serious.

 

His sister's eyes widen, and then she smiles sadly at him. “I thought you would never forgive me. For Pogo and Grace.”

 

“I– I do forgive you,” he stutters, his voice caught in his throat, “You didn't mean to.”

 

“I killed them.”

 

“ _You didn't mean to,_ ” Luther says again, more serious.

 

Vanya's clasping her hands together now, the somber smile still gracing her features. Looking at Vanya, he wants to say everything. He wants to confide in his sister.

 

“That night doesn't ever leave me,” he starts.

 

“Their deaths-?”

 

“No,” Luther interrupts, “Locking you in the vault. Trying to– to kill you.”

 

“Oh, Luther…”

 

“I thought the same thing you did. That you would never forgive me.” The trembling of his hands, “I dream about it every night. I dream about killing you. About if I killed you that night. I'm afraid that I'll hurt you, Vanya. That if I touch you again you'll die.

 

“And when you called the house… I didn't want you to come. I think deep down, I don't want you to forgive me.”

 

“But I do, Luther.”

 

Vanya takes a hesitant step towards her brother. “I forgive you. And I want you to forgive yourself, too.” Another step.

 

Luther jerks away when she gets closer. “Vanya,” he warns, his voice shaky.

 

“You won't hurt me,” she assures, a few inches away from her brother, “I know you won't.”

 

Luther stops breathing when Vanya takes his gloved hand in hers, rubbing his palm and glancing up at him. When she does, Luther already has tears streaming down his cheeks.

 

“Van,” he cries, “I'm sorry.”

 

Vanya smiles up at him and pulls him into a careful hug. She wraps her arms around him and rests her face against his stomach. “It’s okay,” she murmurs.

 

Luther leans into the hug, silently crying into Vanya's hair. He holds her hand gently, weeps, and cries for all the years he had never shed a single tear.

 

Number One is finally dead. Luther laughs.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed :)
> 
> —simon


End file.
